"'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. Everything was blurred. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. ” “Not now.
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